


Bunny

by chele20035



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Getting Back Together, Light BDSM, Shibari, ropes!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:01:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25897102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chele20035/pseuds/chele20035
Summary: Katniss thinks she's doing her best friend a favor, but when it includes ex-boyfriend Peeta Mellark, everything she worked so hard to forget comes rushing back. Does he feel the same?
Relationships: Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 13
Kudos: 47





	Bunny

**Author's Note:**

> So… because so many of you liked what I posted the other day, I decided to post this too. This is a story I wrote for a anthology, my first one actually. But when I wrote it, I actually did it as Everlark, then changed it to original. Here it is, in it’s Everlark form. And now, since I’m sharing it with you, maybe now, I’ll finish it, lol. 
> 
> I need to thank the usual suspects, Sohypothecially, Notanislander, Meems, Honey and Cole. Your friendships have come to mean so much to me, thank you!! And thank you to my readers for still coming back when you got the email that I posted something! I wish I could give you all a hug and say thank you personally. Or at least an elbow bump in the age of this virus. I hope you all are safe and sound and healthy.

“Are you sure about this?”

“You said that you’d do it.”

“Yeah,” she mutters under her breath. “But I didn’t think it would be-- this--you--tying me up in front of all of them!” she pauses as she waves frantically towards the curtains.

Suddenly her ex-boyfriend, Peeta, is in her face. “Trust me, when I called Finnick and told him that I needed a bunny for tonight’s exhibition, I didn’t think Annie would call you.”

She scowls. “Trust me, the only reason I’m even here is for the $200 Annie promised me. From the way it sounds, they are covering your ass because your dumb girlfriend- oh who is it this week? Tiffany? Fifi? Whatever the hell her name is—couldn’t be here.”

“Shut up, Katniss,” he growls in that way that used to make her tingle in her girly parts. Now she just wants to smack him.

She takes a step closer to Peeta. They broke up over a year ago—she found that same Tiffany’s and some other girl’s numbers in his recent history on his cell. When he couldn’t quickly tell her who they were, she walked out. He called after her, but every insecurity that she wasn’t good enough for him came crashing in.

Why would he want a scrawny brunette with weird eyes anyway? 

He’d tried calling, but she blocked his number long ago because it hurt too much to see his name as it lit up her phone day after day. The owners of the bar, Finnick and her best friend, Annie, who only stopped a couple of months ago telling her everything “her” Peeta was doing.

She’s never told her best friend how she went home and cried.

Still does on certain occasions.

“Don’t you dare tell me to shut up!”

His smirk mocks her as he says, “Oh, did my little Kitten finally grow a backbone—“

SMACK! Her hand makes contact with his cheek echoes across the backstage. The other performers stop and look their way. “I’m not your “Kitten” anymore you asshat! You want my submission? Guess what? You threw that chance away,” she hisses.

The commotion gets Finnick’s attention, who stomps over. “What are you two doing? You know that the audience can hear you?”

Dread makes her stomach twist. She hasn’t let anyone else do what Peeta did to her when they were together—hell, no one has touched her since then either. “You don’t need me for the Halloween show--can’t someone else do it?”

He grunts and runs his hands through his copper waves. Katniss steals a glance at Peeta’s blond waves, and she starts to wonder if they still feel the same--“There is no one else, Katniss,” Finnick interrupts her thoughts, “That’s why Annie called you. She’s pregnant, she can’t be tied the way Peeta likes to tie his bunnies. It cuts off the circulation to the baby. She would have done it if she’d been—“

“No,” she exhales. You can do this—if nothing else do it for Annie and the baby. “You’re right. There’s no one else. I said it so I’ll do it.”

“Katniss! What’s wrong?” Annie asks as she rushes as fast as an eight-month pregnant woman can, over to them.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispers, accepting her friend’s hug, effectively avoiding how the guys are watching them. 

Annie keeps her arm around her but leans back. Katniss shakes her head, and Annie continues, “Well, come on then, let’s get ready—“

“But—“ Katniss interrupts, tugging on the green t-shirt she took too long to pick out before she almost didn’t arrive. “I was just going to wear this—and I bought the shorts.” She tugs on the tight spandex. “Just for tonight.”

Annie’s giggle makes her scowl. “You can’t go out there like that. This is the Halloween show. Finnick and I have been planning for a long time for this—" Shame washes over Katniss as she realizes that she should have been helping her friend instead of begging for overtime at her welding job. “Come on. I picked out what you’re going to wear—“

Katniss follows helplessly. When Annie’s office door shuts behind them, Katniss’ eyes meet her friend’s. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here to help. He still comes—“

“I know, I know,” Annie murmurs as she wraps her arms around Katniss. “If he and Finnick weren’t such good friends—“

Katniss nods, letting herself relax into her friend’s embrace. She’s been working so much that she hasn’t had much time to see her oldest friends. “Okay,” she whispers, before she steps away. “Let’s get this over with. What did you pick out for me to wear—oh hell, Annie. You didn’t get me one of those stupid costumes from the mall? Those things are awful.”

Annie shakes her head and walks around her desk. She brings out a black gift bag and hands it to Katniss. Glancing down, all Katniss can see is something orange. She tilts the bag over, and dumps the contents onto the antique desk.

“What is that?”

“Isn’t it cute? I have those same shorts,” Annie pauses to giggle. “In red of course. Finnick loves them.”

“I don’t want to know about that—why are you giving them to me?” She holds up the ruffled, pumpkin orange shorts with the tip of her finger and thumb. She starts to shake her head, when something the same color of orange and glittery catches her eye. “What are those?”

“Pasties.”

Katniss drops the shorts like they are poison and backs up. “No, no, no. I can’t do it, Annie.”

“There’s no one else. And you know that Peeta is headlining this whole show.” Annie exhales loudly. “Finnick sold tickets to this show and they sold out last week. You have to do it, we made enough to pay off the bar.”

“You did?”

Annie nods, and Katniss can’t help but to notice the tears in her eyes. “Annie—please don’t cry. Go get me a couple of shots of something that you know I like.” She swallows hard, then mutters, “and I’ll get dressed.”

“Are you sure? Most of the time, bunnies aren’t supposed to drink before-- you haven’t seen his show, have you?”

Katniss can feel the heat rising from her neck to spread over her face. She has seen his show. The first time was on YouTube. Then, one evening after leaving Annie and Finnick’s house, she drove by the bar. The marquee outside advertised a performance artist, so she just had to stop to see if it might be him.

And it was.

The things he did to the girl he had in his ropes made her mouth water and parts no one has touched but her in the year since she left, tingle with need.

She had only stayed for a moment, sneaking back out before any of the bartenders who knew her could see her. When she got home she ran to her bedroom to her vibrator.

“Yeah, you sent me the link on YouTube,” she replies, hoping that Annie’s mommy brain will keep her from remembering that she didn’t.

“Oh, okay. Are you sure you want that shot?”

Katniss’s exhale is heavy. “I guess not. Just water then?” Annie’s smile is her answer as she closes the door behind her. The click echoes through the small space. “Well, here goes nothing.” She starts changing when she notices the huge floor-to-ceiling mirror that Annie was talking about not too long ago. “Oh, that’s nice,” even her reflection mocks her with its chuckles. 

Choosing to ignore herself, she slides her boots off. Her inhale is sharp as she lifts the hem of her shirt over her head. Not even bothering to fold it, she throws it down on the couch. Next her shorts follow the shirt, leaving her in her bra and panties.

Warily, she looks at the pieces of orange fabric and glitter on the desk. “That was her dad’s desk. No wonder this feels so wrong,” she mutters. Unsure what to do with the glitter things, she picks up the ruffles first.

Not even bothering to sit down, she pulls them on one leg at a time. They slide up and over her panties, and she lets go of the waistband with a snap. She allows herself a glance in the mirror. “Damn it! I can’t wear my panties,” she grumbles, trying to get the ruffles to hide the tell-able outline. It takes only a moment to slide everything off, and then put the ruffled shorts back in place.

“Of course,” she murmurs. “it fits so much better without them on.” She stuffs the panties in her shirt, then her hands find the clasp of her bra. “Am I really doing this?”

“Well, I sure as hell hope so.”

“Peeta!” She squeals as she twirls around so fast that she tips over and lands on the couch with an, “ooof!” She grabs her t-shirt, forgetting that her panties are folded up in it, and they go flying across the room, landing at his feet.

He picks them up, and with that maddening smirk, holds them up. She knows her cheeks are turning pink as she realizes that those are the ones he bought her when they went to the first rope convention so long ago.

Forgetting about her state of undress, she stomps across the floor and snatches them out of his hand. “You need to go.”

Peeta walks past her and pulls a flannel shirt off of a hook. He hands it to her before he finds a seat on the couch. She quickly puts it on, as he says, “We need to talk, Kitten.”

“No, we don’t. You need to leave.”

“Would you stop spitting at me and come sit down? This is actually very important.” His voice is low and serious, more than she ever heard when they were together. She sits on the couch, but as close as she can get to the arm rest.

She can feel his eyes on her, and she hates the way her heart flips in response when all she wants to do is scream. It’s not until she glances at him that he continues, “Do you remember your safe word?”

“Orange-banana,” she replies.

“Good girl,” he says. “Now if at any time, you feel like I’m pushing you beyond your limits—have your limits changed?”

She shakes her head. “When we would play, you weren’t doing,” she pauses so she can swallow hard. “All this. It was me, you and the rope.”

His smile, that stupid smile that reminds her how much she still loves him after all this time appears. “I don’t let myself remember those days.”

Not sure what he meant by that, she can’t help but to think, it never meant anything to him, like it did me. That son of a bitch! “Well, I don’t either,” she snaps. Her heart does a strange mix of sinking when that smile fades, but also happy, hoping that she hurt him a little bit as he had hurt her. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Stand up,” he commands. This time, she tries to ignore how his voice makes her feel. He pulls the flannel aside, and looks at the ruffled shorts Annie had picked out. “I suppose those will do.” He looks up, but instead of meeting her eyes, he stops at the white lace bra. “I know you’re not wearing that.”

“No— there are pasties.”

“Get them.”

“I think—“

“Get them,” he growls. She rolls her eyes but reaches for the pieces of glitter anyway. He takes them from her. Instead of mocking her, he turns them over in his hands. “Oh, good. She did get the good ones.” He starts to give them to her but pauses. “They won’t hurt when you take them off.” Before she can get them, he teases, “Are you sure you don’t need any help putting these on?” He leans in and whispers, “I’ve always loved your nipples.”

“Go away, Peeta,” she says through gritted teeth as she snatches them out of his hand. “Don’t you need to go do something?”

If she hadn’t been watching his face so closely, she never would have seen the longing in his eyes before he looks down. Her heart does that strange little flip that it’s been doing since she walked into O’Dair’s.

She can feel his gaze moving over her, but she turns from him anyway. “I’ll be out in a minute, okay?” Not waiting for him to answer, she slides her boots back on as the door clicks. A quick glance proves that he is indeed gone.

Her exhale fills the now empty space as she runs her fingers through her waves, tugging at the ends like she always does when she’s frustrated. She sinks down into the worn leather and mutters, “What in the hell am I doing?” Leaning back, she closes her eyes. Another deep breath and she lets the memories come. The ones that she holds close to her heart in the middle of the night. The ones that still make her so mad, she could spit nails. The ones that she would give anything to get back.

“Whatever are you doing, honey?”

Katniss opens her eyes, and meets those of her best friend’s. “Annie! I can’t do this! At least not with him!”

Annie sits down beside her. “Oh now, yes you can. Do you remember when we were what? Ten? And we had to do that book report in front of the entire fifth grade?”

A chuckle escapes through her tears. “That was awful! You knocked over the experiment, and I forgot everything I was supposed to say!” Annie’s smile is reassuring. “Can you promise this won’t be as bad as that?”

“Yes, I can. You are about to be tied up by a very handsome man. Don’t let the fact that he is an ass make you forget that.” Their chuckles mingle. “Now, let me see what you’re wearing.” Katniss stands up. Not sure what to do with her hands, she lets them fall limply to her sides. “You need to put the pasties on.”

Her exhale is heavy. “Fine.”

Annie’s smile does little to settle the butterflies that have taken up residence in her stomach since she saw Peeta leaning against the desk. “Your hair looks nice. I just need to do your makeup.”

“Fine,” she hates the way that sounds. Like she’s accepted all this. At least it’s just for an hour. Right?

What if I really like it? What then?

It takes Annie a matter of minutes to finish getting her ready. This time, when she looks in the huge mirror, she doesn’t even recognize herself. Much heavier makeup turns her into someone—well, someone who doesn’t wish or wonder every moment if she is making a horrible mistake. Even the silly, glittery, pumpkin pasties look like they belong.

Annie’s face appears next to hers in the giant mirror. “You look beautiful.” She presses a kiss to Katniss’ cheek, and puts the flannel back on her shoulders. Katniss shrugs back into it, and Annie motions her to the door. “It should be about time.”

“Crap,” Katniss’ shaky nerves speak for her. Annie is either ignoring her or pretending not to hear her as they walk out. The little area they are in used to be what Annie’s dad always called the overflow. And Katniss knows that on busy nights, with the curtains tucked back, patrons mingle over here with their exotic drinks and perfectly aged whiskeys.

Tonight, however, this little area is full of people in various states of dress. Katniss barely notices them, as her eyes automatically seek him out. Standing in the corner, wearing nothing but a pair of black leather pants is Peeta. He changed-- Her heart shudders in her chest, twisting almost painfully.

He looks up from the green rope in his hand, and she can feel his eyes, taking her in. When he starts walking towards her, that’s when she realizes that she stopped. And he stops in front of her. With the hand that isn’t holding the rope, he flicks open the flannel so quickly, she doesn’t have time to react.

“Much better,” he murmurs. “It’s time.”

Unable to speak, all she can do is nod, even as her knees threaten to knock together. His face softens, seeing her distress. Their fingers find the other’s, and he tugs her after him as he retreats back to the corner.

Finnick comes bustling by, pausing long enough to say, “Let’s go.” 

Peeta nods, and meets Katniss’s eyes. Her mouth opens and closes a couple of times, before he chuckles. “What’s your safe word?”

“Orange-banana.”

“Take off your shirt.” Her fingers fumble as she slides it off her shoulders. She was going to let it fall to the floor, but he catches it. Setting it on the same table as the skeins of rope, he picks up a scrap of black.

“What—“

“Shh,” he hushes as he brings the fabric up to cover her eyes. “This might make it a little easier.”

The fabric shuts the lights off, and the pressure in her chest eases. She can feel him behind her tying what could only be the knot. There is something on her cheek, is that him? She turns her head towards the sensation, bumping her nose against what could only be his cheek. Her lips part on their own, and she feels the day’s growth of his beard, while inhaling him. Leather and vanilla fill her senses, making her moan--

“Peeta?” she mutters with her next breath. His hand, his touch, finds her. She grabs his arm, and laces her fingers through his.

“Kick your boots off.” He steadies her as she slips them off. “Good girl.” His raspy whisper steals her breath.

He starts to move, and all she can do is follow him. The old boards of the bar are smooth under her feet as the room grows quiet from the normal roar that is the bar on a special occasion. When he stops, she does too.

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” his voice echoes through the sound system she knows that  
Finnick set up just for stuff like this. “My name is Peeta—“ Several cheers interrupt him, making her grin for him. “And this,” he pauses long enough for them to grow quiet and to squeeze her hand. “Is my bunny tonight, Kitten. You may think that you recognize her, but let me tell you that you don’t.”

Katniss can’t help but to giggle along with the ones gathered around them.

A soft song starts, and she feels movement near her ear. “Just relax, and let me guide you.” He waits for her nod, then untangles his fingers from hers. She reaches after him, to only hear him whisper, “Shhh. I’m going to start now, okay?”

His breath is gone, leaving her alone. A cold chill dances down her spine, making goose pimples erupt all over her and not for the first time, she wishes he hadn’t. She reaches for the blindfold, but his touch, his hand catches her wrist. “Tsk, tsk,” his murmur does something to her as his thumb rubs that place in her wrist where her pulse rests.

She feels him move around her, and she wants to follow, but she hears, “I trust you are still doing yoga? Nod if you are.” Once again, she nods her answer. Something soft replaces his thumb, wrapping around her.

She can’t help but reach with her other hand for the thing he’s wrapping around her. Her fingers find the ridges and the bumps of what could only be rope.

His voice is loud when he says, “Kitten was a little nervous, so I put the blindfold on her.” The audience answers him with some chuckles, while others answer him with knowing ahs. “When you are tying a new sub, take your time with them. It builds the trust between you, and actually helps the transition into subspace smoother.” His touch leaves her, but only for a moment.

There is movement behind her, and as much as she wants to turn, his hand on her lower back keeps her still. There is a lull in the music, and the bar naturally falls silent. She hears a thud behind her, making her jump at the same moment a new track starts.

The sound of drums distracts her enough so that when he does touch her, she jumps. His arms wrap around her, and she feels the same soft rope in his hands.

He puts it just under her breasts, right where her bra would go if she still had it on. Her lips part on a soft gasp as her face and neck heat up. Crap. All these people are seeing her size B breasts, just out in the open with only those stupid pasties on. Her breath hitches as she feels the rope tighten.

“Breathe,” is his whisper as he guides the rope above her breasts. She can feel him fiddling with the ropes behind her before the length comes over her shoulder. There is a pull as she feels more rope enveloping her as his fingers put each piece carefully into place. “Are you okay?”

She can nod only once, as the sensations from being tied, makes her head swim. Her knees wobble and only his steadying hands on her waist keep her from falling back.

Her breath is heavy, as his nearness combined with the thoughts of all those people watching her makes her chest tight and her breath come quick. “Peeta?”

He eases the blindfold off her eyes, and she squints even in the dim light. Those same blue eyes that always steal her breath, stare into her silver ones. “I’m going to leave the blindfold off, okay?” Her eyes shift, trying to see beyond his head—“No, Kitten. You keep your eyes on me.”

Her exhale is loud as she breathes, “Okay.”

He pats her hip, and for a moment, she almost thinks he’s going to kiss her—but he blinks instead, coming back to reality. He looks down at the rope in between her breasts. Those fingers, the same ones she’s dreamed about for what feels like forever, gather a rope in each hand. There’s a tug, and she can feel it all the way down to her toes.

Nerves, and curiosity demands that she keep watching Peeta. The green rope twists as he guides it, in between her breasts and the rope on top and underneath. His knuckle brushes against the pastie, and she can’t stop the moan that escapes as electricity hums through her making her body.

He hesitates, and that same knuckle, oh-so-lightly makes a circle around that piece of orange glitter. His touch wakes up all those nerve endings that she has tried to ignore since she left. She bites that bottom lip, smudging the pink lipstick Annie put on her.

She happens to glance up at that moment, and meets his eyes. “Peeta,” she whispers as she sees the need in their depths. 

“Shhh,” he murmurs before he kisses her, right on the tip of her nose. He pulls the rope tight, and instead of walking around her, he steps even closer so that those goofy pasties are touching his bare chest.

He wraps his arms around her, and his mouth touches her temple where she can feel his breath, making her knees want to give out. His arms tighten around her, catching her. “Come on, now. I need to finish—they want us to finish—“

Katniss turns her head, and looks out into the crowd surrounding them. Instead of feeling nervous, it takes her breath away as it dawns on her that she feels safe and protected. She turns her head back so she can tuck under his chin. “Then please, finish.”

His chuckle is deep, as she feels his fingers continue to work behind her. When he steps away, the cold chill returns, making her shake. She stares at his chest as the thud of another skein of rope hits the old wooden floor.

This rope he gathers in his hands, and she watches him fold it in half. He meets her eyes, and a small smile appears, as if he’s pleased that she’s still watching. “This is called the bite,” he mutters as he shows her the fold in the rope. He crouches down so he’s eye level with her belly button.

Her hands flutter at her sides, the need to cover up stronger now than ever. “Katniss,” his voice is deep, commanding as he speaks her name. “Watch me.” He waits for her to nod, then he wraps his arms around her.

His breath at her navel, brings back a rush of memories of them tangled up together in her sheets. Her fingers itch to find his waves, but she stops herself as her breath shudders in her chest. He continues to wrap the rope around her waist.

He looks up meeting her eyes at the same time he brushes the inside of her thigh. There is a hitch in her breath as his touch lingers. “Turn just a little,” his command is so soft that even in the crowded bar, she is the only one who hears it.

She lets him guide her as he turns her. He stops when he can reach the ropes behind her. Not wanting to look up yet, she watches as he begins to weave and twist the ropes around her legs. When he stands again, she shifts her weight making the ropes rub against her, hugging her in places she never imagined.

Somehow, the way the rope holds her, makes her want to—well, do naughty things. Some very naughty things. To him and have him do them to her.

Peeta stands up and she follows him with her eyes. There is another thud, and she glances down in time to see a new skein of rope in his hands. “Hold out your hands.”

She obeys, and he wraps the rope around her wrists. He ties the knot, securing her. “Now, lift up your arms,” he whispers, as he guides her hands behind her head. “Are you comfortable?”

He waits for her to nod, then she feels the knots behind her moving. She looks up and out into the crowd. Not sure what she expects, she finds many faces watching them—watching her. Some have secret smiles as they look at their partners. Some have far away looks as if they are dreaming of someone.

But many watch in quiet concentration—watching what Peeta is doing to her. With her.

“Peeta?” She whispers, “am I okay?”

He appears in her field of vision, concern clearly makes his brow wrinkle. “You’re perfect.” She feels him grab a hold of her waist. “What’s wrong?”

Her breath catches, not sure of anything in this moment. “I think I’m okay.” She blinks slowly as she grows light-headed. “Do they like me?”

“Who?”

“T-th-t-them.” She looks past him towards the people. “D-d-do they l-l-like me?”

His grin is huge when it appears. “You’re going into subspace.” He leans in, his hands on her holding her tight, as he rests his forehead against hers. Their breaths mingle, and her heart tries to shutter to a stop when she feels him this close.

She moves, so she can hug him, to pull him tight. A tug keeps her from moving and doing the one thing she’s craved since she walked away—“Oh—Peeta?” Her voice is so shaky that it surprises even her.

“Shhh—we’ll be done in a minute.” He steps back, and with a finger under her chin, lifts until her eyes flutter and meet his. “What’s your safe word?”

Her mouth opens as her brain tries to remember how to work. His brow wrinkles in worry until she stammers, “Orange-bananas?”

“Good girl.”

“I feel drunk, Peeta,” she whispers. There is a lull in the music, and everyone in the bar hears, “Why do I feel drunk?”

Gentle chuckles reach her ears, and she wants something—someone. She leans forward, just wanting to touch him, until her forehead bumps his chest. her arms shift, and her groan is loud in her ears as the green rope holds her back.

She can feel his hands flex on her waist—did he just kiss her temple? “Ladies and gentlemen—what my Kitten is experiencing is called subspace. All that’s happening is her endorphins are having a party, giving her the feeling—well the same as if she was drunk.” He tugs her close, until she tucks into his side. Long forgotten warmth fills her as he fits her under his chin. “When this happens with a new bunny, as a rigger, my job is to watch over her.” She snuggles into his bare chest, letting herself indulge in smelling him. 

“Do you want to fly, my Kitten?” His deep rumble vibrates through her. He steps away, and she can feel him tugging, moving her. “Ready?” 

He doesn’t give her a chance to answer when she feels herself leaving the floor. She meets Peeta’s eyes, and his gentle smile lets her know that she’s alright. 

She isn’t sure how far from the floor she is, but when he steps close again to adjust a rope against her hip, he sends her twirling when he steps back. The faces of the patrons of the bar are a blur until she closes her eyes as a giggle escapes. 

She comes to a sudden stop against a chest. Gentle hands grasp her shoulders and she looks up into his Carolina blue eyes. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he starts, “I can't resist my Kitten anymore.” Soft chuckles surround them and she feels the ropes loosening. Instead of her feet touching the floor, he sweeps her up into his arms. Soft clapping makes her smile as her eyes close. They start to move, and somewhere deep in her mind, she wants to protest, to assure him that she can walk on her own, another part of her, the one that cried herself to sleep for so long after she left, demands that she enjoys. 

The light that filters through her eyelids changes as he carries her through the bar. A door shuts, and she can feel him shift under her, lowering the both of them down. The feel of leather under her thighs tells her that she is sitting on his lap. 

He doesn’t let her get comfortable, but pulls and tugs on the ropes around her torso, then guides her hands back over her head. The blood comes rushing back, she groans, as the pins and needles start, which, oddly only adds to the euphoria she’s already feeling.

He puts his arm around her shoulders, and eases her back so she’s cradled in his arms. Her eyelids are so heavy, but she manages to get her eyes open in time to see him pulling a blanket over them. He wraps them up, before he finishes loosening the ropes around her wrists.

“You were amazing, Kitten.” Warmth spreads across her chest at his praise. Their eyes meet, and his smile makes the warmth turn hot. Desire hums along every nerve as her lips part so she can get a much-needed breath. His lips graze her forehead, making her only want him more.

“Peeta—“ she whispers, “I need you.”

His arms tighten around her. He doesn’t move for so long, that she can’t help but to think, he doesn’t want me. He really doesn’t want me. She moves so she can get up when his arms tighten around her. His breath grows ragged as his lips kiss her hair. She hears him whisper, “I shouldn’t be doing this—“ before he cups her face, turning her towards him. “I want you.”

His lips, those lips that were made for sin, cover hers. Her eyes are open as they meet his. “Peeta—“ she murmurs against those lips. She can’t help the tears that come to her eyes--

“Can I have you?” he whispers against her lips.

“Yes,” she answers. Before she can draw another breath, he’s kissing her. She’s been kissed before. Her first one was a fumbling mess in a parking lot. The next ones got better. She’s kissed this man who is holding her before. While he was awake, asleep, arriving, and leaving.

Kissing him was one of her favorite things to do when she still belonged to him.

This kiss however—it’s everything. The new birth of the dawn, the glory of the sunset. Promises of today and tomorrow. Healing from the hurt of the past. Her hands find his blond waves, her fingers tangle easily in those at his nape. He exhales as she tries to pull him impossibly closer.

His hand trails down her naked—but for the ropes—torso. His touch lingers at her belly button as if he is greeting an old friend before he runs his fingers along the edge of the rope around her hips. He traces the pattern in between her legs.

He pulls away and she protests with a moan. “Tis’ alright,” he chuckles as his finger pops the frilly panties she has on. “How attached are you to these?”

“Annie gave them to me for tonight.”

A grin appears at the same moment a pair of bandage scissors does. “Can I?” He asks. A thrill of pleasure shoots through her. She nods, and he uncovers her legs. Nudging her knees apart, he pulls the elastic away from her.

He slips the edge of the scissors between her and the panties at her hips. With a snip, the fabric separates. She catches him stealing a glance before he repeats the snip on the other side. her nerves demand that she say something to fill the silence, so she asks, “Where did you get the scissors?”

“These?” He replies, holding them up for her inspection. She nods, and he continues, “Safety. You know, just in case I needed to get you untied.” He slips the scrap of orange out from under her. “Now, for something that I’ve been dreaming about.”

“Dreaming about?” She echoes. His hands flex around her waist as he moves her so that her legs are straddling his. “Oh—“ her breath leaves.

“I really like this look on you.” His hands travel up her sides until they reach the rope harness.

“You do?”

“I do.” She can’t look away from him, but when she feels his fingers graze the sides of her breasts, she can’t help to jump. His brow raises, and a giggle escapes. “Can I take this off?”

She looks down to where he has a hold of the pumpkin by the top leaf. Her mouth opens, wants to say something, but all she ends up doing is nodding. Her nipple pebbles as he peels the first one. The second one follows leaving her bare to him.

“Damn, I’ve missed you,” he whispers. His hands are hot as they cup her breasts. Reverently, he kisses the top of her sternum then the tops of her breasts, and she wraps her arms around him.

She wants to repeat the words he just uttered, but she looks down in time to see him kiss her nipple. A hot shiver of want dances down her spine. His hand slides down, skimming over the rope. He bites the nipple he’s been kissing at the same time he finds her clit.

Katniss’s head rolls back when he plunges his finger deep inside her. When he starts to move, she grabs his waves, and breathes, “Oh, fuck, Peeta.”

“Have you been this wet the whole time?” His voice is everything to her in that moment. She is unable to answer because his thumb is now flicking her clit as his fingers continue to pump.

All she knows is that she needs more.

What he is doing is taking away her ability to think clearly. She is able to whisper, “I want you—“

“Unbutton my pants, Kitten. I don’t want to stop touching you.” It takes her a moment of fumbling with the button, but she manages to get them open. He lifts his hips and slides the pants down. His hard dick pops out, as if it was greeting her. He fists it, pumping it several times while he commands, “I can’t wait—spread your legs.”

She does what he asks, and he digs in his front pocket. When a silver foil packet appears, she doesn’t let herself think about who he originally intended that for. He tears it open with his teeth, and rolls it on.

He finds her clit again, and gives it several quick rubs before he murmurs, “I want you--” she feels a tug on the ropes around her bottom and she lets him lead her to mount him.

He slides right in, and they both moan together. The feel of him inside her again after all this time-- he rests his forehead against her sternum, and she pulls him close. Keeping his chin on her chest, he looks up into her eyes. As he does-- he starts to move under her.

The want in her veins runs hot as the tingles spread all over her. They start to move together, and her need, her desire hums as her orgasm comes quickly. At the same moment her heart speeds up, he stands up with her in his arms. She tightens her hug as he carries her by the ropes across the room to the desk.

He sits her down on the corner of the desk that puts her at his hip level. It’s those same hips that start to grind. She clings to him as another wave of pleasure crashes over her. “Peeta—“ she grunts through clenched teeth. “Fuck me—“

“Faster?”

“Please—“

“As you wish—“ he mutters. His grip tightens on the rope, giving him the extra grip that he needs. He starts to hit that spot deep inside—

“Peeta—“ she mewls as the crest comes again.

“Kitten—oh fuck me, Kitten.” His orgasm makes his breath ragged as he comes in her arms. He pushes her back as he leans over her.

She isn’t sure how long they lie there. It’s only when there is a knock at the door that she remembers where they are. “Get up—get up, Peeta.” He sits up, and that moment of him sliding out of her makes her want to cry.

Instead, she stumbles over to the couch. Grabbing the blanket that he first wrapped her in she throws it around her shoulders. He’s adjusting himself back into the leather pants. Her knees go weak and she sinks down onto the couch as he opens the door.

Whoever is on the other side—he doesn’t let them in. He does close the door before he comes back to her. Instead of sitting down beside her, he slides a pair of shoes that must have been beside his gear bag. He grabs a t-shirt out of the bag and as he slides it on, she can feel her heart sinking.

Tearing her eyes off of him, she spies her clothes. I’ve got to get out of here—

“Kitten? That was Finnick. He needs me to go see—“

Her wave interrupts him. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

Uncertainty crosses his face, and he looks almost like he wants to say something. Much to her relief, he goes to the door. His hand rests on the knob, and he looks back at her. “I’ll be right back. Okay?”

Her nod is her answer. When she hears the click of the knob again, she jumps up. She doesn’t even untie the ropes that are still around her, but tugs her shirt in place, and pulls the shorts over them.

The flannel is back, wrapped around her and she wishes she had more— “I can make it to the Jeep,” she says to the empty room. She grabs her purse and her boots are on but before she can get to the door, it opens.

Briefly, she wonders if she should stay--

“Where’s Peeta?”

Her heart finishes sinking when she sees the hated Tiffany standing there. I was just a fuck. He hasn’t changed at all-- “He’s not here.”

The red-head exhales loudly. “Look—Katniss, is it? He told me to be here to be his bunny. Then we have a date after—“ Katniss shoves her out of the way, cutting off her words. “What a bitch!” she hears behind her. “But I knew that. After all, I was the one he bitched to about how bad you treated him--”

Katniss doesn’t wait around to hear the rest. She runs out the back door where the coolness of the October night welcomes her. It’s not until she is in her Jeep, heading home that she lets the tears come. Hot and messy, they don’t stop until sometime before dawn when she finally falls into an exhausted slumber.


End file.
